Swan in the Water
by snarkmcsnark
Summary: AU: From skid row to penthouse suite, Jesse Sullivan's life is flipped upside down when she spots a familiar face at the bar. Suddenly, she becomes the roommate of the city's most promising and most enigmatic bachelor. Randy Orton only wanted to give her the safety and security she deserved, but it might be his nightmares that will ultimately lead to her departure. Randy/OC
1. Retrouvailles

**Swan in the Water **

**AU: From skid row to penthouse suite, Jesse Sullivan's life is flipped upside down when she spots a familiar face at the bar. Suddenly, she becomes the roommate of the city's most promising and most enigmatic bachelor. Randy Orton only wanted to give her the safety and security she deserved, but it might be his nightmares that will ultimately drive her away. **

* * *

_Just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world; she took the midnight train-_

Skin met pavement. Blood met snow.

It was a closed head injury due to the hard blow from the unidentified object. Luckily - as if she should thank the Irish for their four-leaf clovers and leprechauns right about now - the object wasn't sharp enough to penetrate through her skull and cause death. The only loss of blood was due to the fact that she had a terrible habit of biting her lip, and she literally ate it when the guy hit her on the back of the head. There might be a concussion, but they can't be sure unless they run tests, which of course cost the taxpayer a month's paycheck and a lifetime supply of Tylenol.

So Jesse Sullivan walked out of the clinic just as fast as she walked in. No way in hell they were billing her for having her head checked out after some thug knocked her out and stole her backpack. She stifled a laugh at the thought of the thief opening her bag and finding her Physiology and Neuroscience textbooks, a broken calculator, and used up pens and highlighters. Still, those were $200 textbooks (that she got online for a fraction of the price, but that's besides the point). Wrapping her coat around her small frame, she continued to trudge on to the place where she was headed before the blunt force interruption to the cranium.

"Oh, honey, I said you didn't have to come in," Samira said as the girl walked around the bar into the older woman's embrace. She checked her for signs of damage and felt a small bump just at the crown of her thick mop of hair. When the girl called and said she would be late, Samira was ready to lay it all out for her highest-tipped bartender. When she revealed that her reason for being late was due to another South Side snatching, the older woman was quick to tell her to go to a clinic, go home, and rest her pretty head. Of course, Jesse would only listen to half of it.

"You know I need the money," she said as she wrapped an apron around her waist.

"Just don't go passing out behind the bar, or Larry will think you've been taking shots from the inventory again."

"Wouldn't want him to think that," she winked devilishly.

Macquarie's was a down and dirty Irish pub that had no qualms about throwing out rowdy University of Chicago frat boys or dismissing any Carrie Bradshaw wannabe that ordered a Cosmo. It was a scotch or whiskey kind of place, and maybe it was the reason old man, Larry Macquarie III, was seeing red on his ledger. Hey, but at least they've got their loyal customers.

There was skinny Pete who was a professor at the university next door. He was working on his doctorate when his wife was having an affair with some bench player for the White Sox. Then there was big banker, Ned. He was a handful when he had too much to drink, which was every other night of the week. The bar had a lot of guys like Pete and Ned - sad, pitiful, middle-aged men whose wives were either screwing the neighbor or being sad, pitiful, and alone back in their 4-bedroom Hyde Park houses. It was utterly depressing talking to these blokes, but their melancholy matched with her feigned sympathy and half-assed compliments paid her rent.

Jesse lived on those tips. She relied on that money to pay for food and rent; and she relied on her wage to pay off the debt and loans she had accrued after four fragmented years at the University of Chicago. She was eighteen when she graduated high school and got accepted with a scholarship into the science program at U of C. She was nineteen when her mother discovered she had a lump in her breast. She was twenty when she decided to take a break from school and take care of the only parent she ever knew. She was twenty-three years and fourteen days when her mother succumbed to breast cancer. She was twenty-four, with hundreds of thousands in medical debt, when she decided to come back to school and finish her degree.

Jesse wiped down the counters as she made small talk with Pete about his dumb, sheltered first-year students. "The public education system in this country is a joke," he ranted deliriously, "How do these kids live without knowing the fundamentals of long division?"

She chuckled and shook her head as she continued to listen to skinny Pete's tirade on the failure of the country to properly teach teenagers basic arithmetic. Jesse heard the bell ring, and saw, from the corner of her eye, that a man had taken the stool at the end of the bar. She turned her attention from the drink she just made to the bar's new patron. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

He looked up and saw the bartender with her jaw to the floor. He cocked his head to the side and momentarily studied her face before he came to the realization of whom it was standing before him.

"Jesse?"

"Randy!"

She walked towards him and reached over the bar to give him a rushed and suddenly awkward hug. She hadn't seen the guy in close to seven years, and now here he was looking like a stud and a half in her bar. No longer the lanky, awkward, white kid who was forced to golf with his dad. Randy Orton had grown into this tall, tanned, well-built stallion. He was hot and she could tell that he was no stranger to hearing it.

Randy skimmed over the woman before him. Jesse Sullivan had grown into a woman, all right. She was still a little munchkin, a full foot shorter than he was, but she wasn't that flat-as-a-diving-board, lifeguard at the country club pool. She had filled out nicely in all the right places, but kept her waist and legs fit and toned. Her hair was still a massive mess of curls atop her head – no longer a natural deep brown but a dark blonde; and her green eyes sparkled like sea glass just like they did when he'd last seen her seven years ago.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm back in town," he gleamed, showing off a set of pearly whites no longer encased in those braces when he was sixteen. "I finished my MBA in May then I travelled for a bit and, now, I guess I'm back to start grinding it out in the real world."

She shook her head and smiled. Nothing like hearing about Masters degrees and leisurely travels to remind her of her place in society compared to someone like Randal Keith Orton - son of a man who made it on Forbes' list more times than George Clooney made it on People's most beautiful. "Glad you're back," she replied in the most politically correct manner she could muster. Truth was, she knew the smiles and the catching up would be momentary and fleeting - just like those summers.

"So what have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know, working here," she shrugged with half a smile, "I'm in school right now…"

"School? So you must be in med school now, right? Starting your internship year soon?"

Of course he remembered. Who wouldn't remember a sixteen year-old mixed race girl from public housing in Washington Park talk about her dreams to, one day, become a doctor? She talked about her dreams, while he sulked about how his father dreamt on his behalf. Poor, little rich kid, she thought initially. But soon enough, she realized there was more to Randy than this 'woe is me' character she created for him.

"No, actually, I took a few years off. I'm in my fourth year of my undergrad."

"That's cool. I took a year off too," he smiled.

"You probably took a year off to backpack across Asia," she chuckled, "Not the same."

"So what kept you busy while you weren't in school?"

Jesse shrugged. She really didn't want to talk about it but if she said nothing, she knew Randy would pry. If she bluntly said it, he might just want to skirt the issue altogether. "Mom had cancer and she died three years ago."

"Oh, I'm really sorry to hear that." Randy felt like a massive dick for steering the conversation there. He never met Jesse's mother so he wasn't really sure what to feel, or if he should be feeling anything at all. He knew she was a single parent and Jesse said she got her ambition from her mother, so it must have been devastating for her. He couldn't even begin to wrap his mind around her loss. Randy felt strangely nervous talking to Jesse. He had already screwed up by talking about his life like she was just one of his pretentious colleagues at Yale. This was Jesse, for god's sake. She was the only person he could truly open up to when he was growing up.

"It sucks, but it happened a long time ago," she replied with lack of interest. Jesse leaned over the bar and looked him in his crystal blue eyes, "So what can I get for you, Randy?"

* * *

Randy stuck around for last call. He stayed put when Jesse had to entertain other patrons and when Larry called her and yelled at her for not exercising her second amendment right to have a gun on her in the event of receiving a closed head injury in exchange for one's personal belongings. Jesse swung the kitchen door open and walked back out to the bar. She rolled her eyes when she reached Randy.

"What's up?" he took a swig from his tall glass of ice water. He had his two beers several hours ago and he was driving home. The only reason he stayed in this bar was for the person standing right before him.

"My boss, Larry, thinks I'm crazy that I don't own a gun."

Randy laughed, "What red-blooded American in their right mind wouldn't have a .44 Magnum in their pocket at all times?" he mocked in a stereotypical Southern drawl.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Cowboy Randy," she cast him a sideways glare, "He just thinks I need it for self defense. Especially with all the crime in this city…"

"Something happen?" He noticed her cut lip, but didn't think it had anything to do with an assailant. He had always known it was one of her little quirks to be biting down on her bottom lip.

Jesse shook her head, "Nothing major. Just got hit on the head on my way to work. Guy stole my backpack, but I'm not hurt so everything's fine."

Randy's eyes widened in shock. He couldn't believe she was being so nonchalant about all of this. Larry may have been right; Jesse might be crazy. "Jesse? Shit! Are you ok? Did you get your head checked?"

"Oh crap, not you too?" she sighed, "I'm fine. I went to the clinic and they flashed a light in my eyes and felt my head for bumps; they pretty much cleared me."

"Pretty much?"

"They wanted to run some tests, but I didn't have time… or the insurance so I bolted."

"Jesse!" He stretched his arms over the counter and dropped his head. She might have grown up into this beautiful woman, but she was still stubborn as ever. "We're going to go to the hospital after your shift, get you those tests, and make sure you're all right."

"Randy, you don't need to do that."

"I want to."

* * *

When the clock struck 2AM and the bar had to close its doors, Jesse pushed Randy out the door. He was being so difficult about the tests that he wouldn't leave unless she promised him she would get them done. To appease him, she promised. She didn't think that she would walk out of the bar at 2:30AM and find him leaning against his car. She shook her head and turned around but he caught her by the elbow.

"Jesse, don't be difficult," he said sternly, "You will either get your ass in my car or I will carry you over my shoulders and do it myself. It's up to you."

She looked around the empty street and sighed defeated. "Ok, do the second one. My feet hurt and tossing me into your car sounds like fun."

Randy and Jesse drove to the nearest hospital and parked the Range Rover close to the entrance. "$8 for parking?" She asked in disbelief. "People are dying in here!"

"Relax, Fidel Castro. Did that blow to the head turn you into a socialist?"

The two made their way into the hospital where Randy arranged a physical exam, a Head CT scan, and an EEG for Jesse. Fortunately, it was Friday night and she didn't have to get up early for school the next day. She just had to make sure she had enough coffee before she started her midday shift at Macquarie's. Randy sat patiently at the waiting room as doctors gave Jesse all the tests she needed. With a cup of piping hot coffee in hand, Jesse joined him and awaited the results.

The doctor returned, clipboard in hand to share the positive outcome, "Jesse, you suffered a very minor concussion but since you didn't experience any levels of unconsciousness or any of the symptoms associated, you should be fine. Keep in mind though, if you experience any seizures in the next 2-3 weeks, give me a call so we can run some tests again. Besides that, you're just as healthy as any active 25-year-old woman."

"Thanks, doc," she beamed as she nudged Randy in the rib, "Told you so."

Walking back to the parking lot, Jesse stopped when Randy's Range Rover came into view. "I'm going to go head down that way," she said pointing west to Washington Park. "So, I guess this is goodbye. Thanks for taking care of the tests," she mumbled, remembering no one ever asked her for her insurance information or her address for when they would send the bill. Randy must have taken care of everything. Typical.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said, pulling her back towards him. "I'm not letting you walk home in this hour."

"Uh, this is normal for me, dad."

Randy rolled his eyes, "Would you quit being so goddamn snarky for two seconds? I'm trying to be nice here."

"Doesn't suit you, Randal," she stuck her tongue out.

"Come on, Jesse. Let me drive you home."

As they continued to drive westward, Randy noticed the buildings becoming more and more dilapidated. Abandoned public housing, seedy convenience stores, gun shops, and fast food joints replaced the charm, history and culture of Hyde Park. He couldn't picture Jesse walking through this area everyday to get to school or work. No wonder, she got mugged. And no wonder it barely fazed her; she had probably been the victim of a number of unreported assaults.

Jesse alerted him to stop when they arrived at a four-story apartment building. Some windows were boarded up and a group of young men gathered around a fire in an oil drum right in front of the building. Jesse began to open the door of the SUV when Randy stopped her. I'm going to park the car and walk in with you.

"No, you're not. You leave your car here for two seconds and those kids will have it carjacked out of the state by the time you get back downstairs."

"I can't just let you walk in there alone."

"Randy," she sighed. His chivalry was charming and sweet, but it emerged from an upbringing so far removed from the gritty streets of Chicago. "I appreciate all that you've done for me tonight. I really do. But this is my world, I live it every day, and I am fine. You don't have to protect me. I can protect myself."

"But-" she cut him off, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Goodbye, Randy."


	2. The Little Mermaid

**Swan in the Water**

**AU: From skid row to penthouse suite, Jesse Sullivan's life is flipped upside down when she spots a familiar face at the bar. Suddenly, she becomes the roommate of the city's most promising and most enigmatic bachelor. Randy Orton only wanted to give her the safety and security she deserved, but it might be his nightmares that will ultimately drive her away.**

* * *

Her legs carried her along the pathway until she disappeared into the building. Randy made sure that the men, who turned their attention to her briefly and to the car from which she emerged, would not make any moves toward her. And even if he could see they were more preoccupied with heating spoons and shooting up the latest street drug, he had to make sure she would make it home safe and sound.

Maybe he was being unnecessarily paranoid; after all, she assured him that this was normal for her. Randy shook his head. This shouldn't be anyone's normal.

He set the Range Rover on park and turned off the ignition. He jumped off the driver's side and locked the car behind him. He went up the steps and heard the jeers from the men by the oil drum. He chose to ignore them, knowing they were too drugged up to successfully hurt him or his car. Randy entered the building and looked through the list of tenants and their respective buzz numbers. Looking through the list, he saw Sullivan 307-142.

Randy was about to enter the six-digit number when he realized someone had cut the cord to the machine. "Shit," he muttered. He looked around the cramped lobby and noticed the rolled up newspaper that held the door open, cementing the futility of the building's security measures. "Of course."

There was no elevator in the building, just a set of stairs that went right up to the fourth floor. Sullivan 307-142. That meant Jesse's apartment must be on the third floor. He climbed up the stairs, passing by rooms with doors ajar. In one room, he saw a group of kids glued to the television. Who would be letting their kids watch TV at 4AM? In the hallway of the 2nd floor, Randy witnessed a drug deal go down. Finally he reached, Jesse's floor.

His momentary sense of relief was cut short when he heard cries and screams followed by shattering glass from 302. There was no way he would allow Jesse to continue living in this hellhole. For the sake of her safety and for the sake of his peace of mind, he had to get her out of there. He reached her door, and knocked.

There were no peepholes so there was no way Jesse could find out who was on the other side, without opening the actual door. The place was a deathtrap. He heard locks unclick and the door swung slightly open. A single gold chain held it in place, and a metal baseball bat made its appearance.

"Jesse?"

She reared her head through the gap between the door and the frame. Baseball bat still in hand, she unlatched the chain and pulled him into the small apartment. "Randy, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you made it to your apartment safe. I didn't trust those guys outside… I mean, after what happened to you earlier tonight, I just couldn't risk it."

Jesse sighed. He truly had good intentions, but she couldn't allow him to continue fretting over her like this. Surely, the man had more important things to worry about than the welfare of some chick he hadn't seen or spoken to in seven years. Looking at him in his wool coat and cashmere scarf, the guy probably had someone at home who was worried sick about him.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You keep saying you're fine, but you're not," Randy began, "You walk 3 miles down this road everyday, risking your life as you walk past drug dealers, pimps, and thugs. You come home to this deathtrap that probably has a billion building code violations. Your neighbors are, arguably, worse than the people just down the street. You have six locks on your door and a baseball bat on the foot of your coat rack. Jesse, this is not fine. You are not fine."

She was beginning to get exasperated with him. Who was he to come into her life and tell her and judge the way she lived her life. It wasn't like she had a choice in the matter. She was born to a black woman and an absent white father in a neighborhood that didn't consider Jesse 'black enough' to be a sister. Jesse was born to a man who knew she existed, but made a conscious effort not to be part of her life. She was raised in a community that knocked her down but made her stronger. Born and raised in south side Chicago, and this was the only way she knew how.

Jesse was about to protest when gunshots were fired. The two ran to the window and looked outside. A brawl broke out between the junkies outside and one of them was face down on the grass. "Shit," Jesse closed her curtains and made sure all the windows were shut tight. The sirens began blaring and she knew there would be no way she could get a good night's sleep now.

This was ridiculous. There was no way she could deny the gravity of the situation outside and how close she was to being at the receiving end. Randy looked at her and his protective instinct took over. He pulled her in for a hug, surprising her until she finally softened and molded into his embrace.

"Stay with me."

"What?" She pulled away to look him in the eye, only to see that he was dead serious.

"I have a three-bedroom condo five minutes away from the university. It's in a nice, safe, well-lit, heavily patrolled part of town."

"Randy, you're being crazy. You want me to move in with you? Me?"

"Yeah, I don't see what's so crazy about that. You obviously need a new place in a much safer part of town. I have about a thousand square feet of space I could spare."

"Even if I did take you up on that offer, I wouldn't be able to afford a fraction of the rent you pay for that place."

"The condo? It's all been paid for. Besides, I wouldn't dream of making you pay for rent. You have enough to worry about with your undergrad, and med school next year."

"Randy, this is all so generous but I can't."

"Why not? Is it the privacy? Trust me, the place is huge. You'll have your own bedroom and bathroom. And with my job at dad's office, I'll be expected to travel down to LA once a month for two weeks at a time. I'll barely be home, and you'll be there to take care of everything while I'm gone. It'll be a perfect arrangement"

It did sound perfect and so damn tempting. As much as she would always be Jesse, born and raised in South Side, she knew that murder on her front yard was a damn good reason to move out. If only she had the extra capital to move out to a better place, on her own terms and her own volition. But her mother's medical bills and her student loans were stacking up, and Randy's offer might just help her through that.

"What do you want?" Jesse asked, "I mean, clearly I can't pay you back but there must be something you want out of this."

Randy sighed, pushing his short hair back. "I just want to see that you're safe. You were a good friend to me and I dropped the ball when I moved away for college. I dropped off the face of the earth, and seeing you in the bar tonight reminded me of how much I've missed out in the last seven years. I want to make it up to you."

"It was a two-way street, Randy. You went off to college and I thought our friendship ran its course, so I didn't even try to reach you. I'm just as much to blame."

"Well, I shouldn't have made you think that way."

"Randy, seriously," she insisted that she had to do something in order to level out the arrangement. If not, she'd feel like she would constantly owe him for something and that was a feeling she would never be comfortable with. "What can I do?"

"Take care of my place when I'm gone. That's it." He stated with conclusiveness, "And when you've become Dr. Jesse Sullivan, consider it all repaid," he smirked.

The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"When I was sixteen, I met this lifeguard at the country club. She called me a spoiled, arrogant asshole and we became friends," he laughed, vividly remembering that summer day. "She made me a better person and I never had the chance to tell her until now."

"I did serve you some truth tea, didn't I?"

* * *

_Summer was the smell of sun cream mixed with chlorine. It was the sound of kids skirting the 'no running' sign and the ensuing wailing that happened when knees and elbows hit the gravel. It was watching middle-aged housewives drop their six year-olds at the pool, so they could drown themselves in afternoon cocktails until the chauffeur picked them up in time to be home for their cheating husbands. Ahhh, summer._

_Working at the Brighton Country Club was a glorious escape from the true grit of living in Chicago. The club was like a heavily fortified, isolated bubble of paradise. Eighteen ranges of prime green, stables that housed horses with more net worth than most Americans, tennis courts and squash courts and makeshift courts to practice divorce proceedings…_

_Then there were the swimming pools. There was the indoor Olympic-sized pool, which was the usual spot for those serious about their fitness, then there was the VIP pool for club members that were willing to spend more on exorbitant fees just so they could have more exclusive access to basically the same chlorinated drum of water. But no, Jesse Sullivan had neither luxury. _

_Jesse was assigned all summer long to the outdoor pool, frequented by spoiled children and their even more spoiled teenage siblings. For eight hours, five days a week, she basked and burned under the Midwest sun. It was a 'play pool' – no serious swimmers; just drowners. And if they weren't drowning, they were just lounging on the edge, young couples giving each other not-so-secret handjobs. The worst part was she had to sit on the eight-foot high observation chair while dressed in a bright red Pamela Anderson one-piece. The only problem was Jesse didn't exactly have the goods to fill out the suit like the slow-motion running C.J Parker on the set of Baywatch._

_The sun was setting and it was just around the time her pool emptied out. Jesse was scooping out leaves and stray objects when she had an unexpected visitor. He was on his phone and walked along the length of the pool. Looking aggravated, he sank down on one of the loungers and sank his head in his hands. _

_ "No, mom. I can't. Dad won't let me fly to Paris to see you. He says I have to spend the summer here so I can intern at the firm."_

_ "I have no choice, mom. You know how he is."_

_ "What do you mean he won't let me alone with you? You're my mother!"_

_ "Mom? Mom? Mom?"_

_ He flung his phone into the pool. Jesse looked down between her scoop net and the device, which was now slowly sinking to the pool floor. His sad, blue eyes met hers and for a second he almost looked apologetic. She picked up the phone with the net and walked around to where he was seated._

_ Jesse handed him his phone, which was water damaged and beyond repair at this point. He looked up at her, still not taking what was in her hand. She studied him briefly as he just sat there in silence. Tall, probably athletic, tanned, dark hair, and a pair of baby blue eyes. His Ralph Lauren polo shirt matched his eyes down to their pigment, and his khaki shorts and golf shoes meant he had just returned from 18 rounds at the putting green._

_ He must have noticed her studying him, because he began to eye her from head to toe. Suddenly, Jesse felt really insecure and vulnerable standing in front of him._

_ "Here's your phone," she threw it into his lap before turning on her heel to walk away._

_ He grabbed her by the wrist, forcing her to turn around. He stood up and towered above her – at least a foot over her tiny frame._

_ "Thanks," he said before he released her arm. The breeze picked up causing a shiver down her bare back._

_ "No problem," Jesse replied, "Just don't make it a habit of throwing electronics into bodies of water when you're in a fit of rage."_

_ He chuckled, "I'll keep that in mind next time my dad gives me shit for not showing interest in the family business."_

_ Jesse shook her head and sarcastically replied, "Oh, you and your rich kid problems."_

_"Hey, that's not fair. It's a lot worse than you think," he replied defensively before he realized just how obnoxious he sounded._

_She raised her arms to concede, "I can't judge. But you let me know how working for daddy turns out, and I'll keep you on the loop on how many turds I have to clean out of the pool. Deal?"_

_He smirked, liking her already. Extending his arm out, he introduced himself, "Randy Orton. Pleasure to meet you."_

_The name imprinted itself on her brain. She could've sworn that surname appeared on the business pages of The Tribune on a daily basis, not that she ever bothered to read that section. Hesitantly, she shook his hand and smiled brightly at him. "Jesse Sullivan. Pleasure's all mine."_

* * *

The condominium was in a state of chaos. The interior decorator barked orders as movers shifted furniture all over the expansive home. "2 inches to the left. No, slightly to the right." "That is not feng shui." "This is plum! I asked for burgundy!" Randy walked into his unit followed by his best friend, John Cena. The two men carried bags of groceries from the Whole Foods down the street.

Since Jesse was moving in today, he wanted everything to be perfect and ready for her to settle in. He decided that she didn't need to be bringing her Goodwill furniture in the house so he hired his stepmom's interior decorator to take care of Jesse's room. He also didn't have anything in his fridge besides alcohol and leftover Chinese takeout, so he got John to help him with groceries.

"I can't believe Jesse's moving in with you," he beamed. It was so unlike his best friend to share his space with anyone that it surprised him that he would be so open to sharing it with someone he hadn't seen in years. John knew the two were good friends, but he wasn't quite sure to what extent. He always felt, back when they were in high school that Randy and Jesse were more than friends but they didn't let on. John figured Randy must've always had a soft spot for her.

"Does she still wear that little, red one-piece?"

Randy rolled his eyes, "It's December, John. Why would she still be wearing a bathing suit?"

"Whatever, smart ass. So when will she be here?"

Randy checked the Rolex on his wrist and turned back to the open door, "The movers picked her up an hour ago. She said a friend is helping her move in and unpack her stuff."

"Boyfriend?" John asked.

"No, I don't think so. She just said 'a friend'; besides, I don't think she's dating anybody."

"You never asked her?"

"We never broached the topic," he shrugged. "I don't see the point in asking because I don't see how it makes a difference in our situation."

"What is your situation?" John asked.

"She's an old friend moving into my place. I'm not trying to score with her, if that's what you're thinking."

"Why not?" he asked as if the answer to that question was so simple. If John remembered correctly, Jesse was a pretty, little spitfire. Her caramel colored skin, bouncy curls, and bright green eyes kept you guessing. Besides her looks, the girl was a sweetheart and a charmer.

Randy groaned. He didn't really want to get into this right now. "I'm seeing Eva right now and you know I like to keep things casual - no strings attached. Jesse's just not the type of girl who would be ok with that sort of relationship."

"So she's the type of girl you'd settle down with?"

"Yeah," Randy nodded then shook his head, "Not me, personally. Some guy will be lucky enough to be with her. I mean, she's a great girl but we're friends. That's it," he replied rather defensively.

"So what does Eva think about this new arrangement?"

"I haven't told her. I don't see why I have to; it's not like she's my girlfriend."

"Randy, Randy, Randy…" John slung his arm over his best friend's shoulder. "Eva may not be your girlfriend, but her wrath will burn brighter than her hair when she finds out a girl is moving into your bachelor pad."

Two girls, carrying boxes emerged from the front door, and stopped to watch the organized chaos before them. Randy walked towards them and smiled when he saw the look of shock on their faces.

"Hey, Randy!" Jesse beamed, setting the box on the floor to give her new roommate a hug. "This is my best friend, Alicia. She'll be helping me unpack."

"Nice to meet you, Alicia," Randy extended his hand.

She shook his hand as she looked at the man from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Jesse wasn't lying. Randy Orton was a fine human specimen. "Nice to meet you too, Randy. I've heard a lot of things about you."

Jesse nudged her best friend in the rib. Randy took note of this and smirked, "I hope they were all nice things."

"You're not expecting Jesse to lie, are you?" John chimed in. He walked out of the kitchen and greeted the two girls, "Hello, ladies, name's John Cena."

"Hi, John," Jesse rolled her eyes and grinned. Of course, these two boneheads would still be best friends. "How's life been treating you?" Who was she kidding? Cena's lineage was just as deep in polo matches and private jets as the Ortons. He was doing fine. Not Jesse's definition of 'fine', but perhaps the 1%'s definition of it.

After catching up briefly, Randy showed the two women a tour of his spacious condo. It was a modern open-concept space with floor-to-ceiling windows all around, and a huge balcony. The kitchen was a mix of dark woods, stainless steel, and black granite counter tops. A glass fireplace sat in the middle of the room, separating the living room from the dining. Off the dining and kitchen, a hallway led to a small home office, a laundry room, and the pantry. Two bedrooms were located on a hallway off the living room, and a set of stairs led up to the master bedroom and ensuite.

Jesse's room was decorated like it was straight out of a Restoration Hardware catalog. A modern, white four-poster bed was the focal point of the room. Small, glass chandeliers hung on either side of the bed, just atop the white bedside tables. A dresser and vanity lined either side of the room, creating balance and flow. French art adorned the pale, ivory colored walls and soft blush textiles adorned the windows and bed linens.

Off the bedroom, a door led to a walk-in closet, which then led to a 5-piece ensuite. It was like a mix of old and new with a modern glass shower on one side and the most intricate, and beautiful claw foot tub on the other. Jesse felt like the luckiest girl alive to be able to live in such a beautifully decorated home. She was so grateful; she didn't know how to ever repay Randy for his kindness.

* * *

Once the men left Alicia and Jesse in her bedroom, the two women's eyes widened in disbelief. It was like a dream. Alicia walked around the room, taking note of every detail that made the room look like something out of a Disney movie. She was so happy for her friend. If anyone deserved to be treated like a princess, it would be Jesse.

"This is incredible," she marveled at all the space in the walk-in closet. "I am coming over all the time."

Jesse laughed, it would be the walk-in closet that would truly capture her best friend's fashionista heart. "Don't get too excited. It's not like I can fill an eighth of that space."

"Let me fill it for you," she pursed her lips. "Besides, I'm not coming over for just this," she pointed at all the extravagant things in her bedroom, "I'm coming over so I can see that beautiful man and his beautiful friends."

"What about Big E?" Jesse asked about Alicia's on-and-off boyfriend.

Alicia simply rolled her eyes, "E and I are, so, over," she snuck a peek outside and saw John and Randy discussing something with the interior designer, "I plan to move on to better men… men who actually make a living. I don't want to be a sugar mama, no more."

Jesse laughed. Alicia was a hard-working independent girl who always fell for the charming player next door. She worked as a bartender and waitress in a swanky sports club in Downtown Chicago. She made bank with her tips, and got her family out of living in the projects. Alicia already took care of her grandmother and four siblings; she didn't need to be taking care of a grown man.

"I wouldn't get too excited about either one of them," Jesse said when she noticed her eyeing them and licking her lips.

"Why not?" she asked, "I mean, if Randy's off-limits because he's your man then I totally respect that."

Jesse chuckled, "Randy isn't my man; we're just really old friends – that's it."

Alicia shrugged. "So what now, baby girl, are you going to forget about us peasants and hang out with your rich friends?" she teased.

"Funny," Jesse stuck her tongue out, "I may be living here, but I'm definitely not part of their world."


	3. Family Portrait

**Swan in the Water**

**AU: From skid row to penthouse suite, Jesse Sullivan's life is flipped upside down when she spots a familiar face at the bar. Suddenly, she becomes the roommate of the city's most promising and most enigmatic bachelor. Randy Orton only wanted to give her the safety and security she deserved, but it might be his nightmares that will ultimately drive her away.**

**A/N: Hey readers! I just want to say thank you to those of you who are reading this story. I really appreciate your patience, as I know the first couple of chapters aren't really the typical attention-grabbing first chapters of most fics here. It's a little discouraging not to get reviews, but I see the traffic stats and that makes me a little hopeful that my story is still being read and followed by a few people. I hope you enjoy this chapter; and as always, read and review!**

* * *

Dusk was settling on the blanket of snow and the lights from Chicago's skyscrapers began to illuminate the urban skyline. In one of those modern, glass structures, Jesse sat Indian-style as she stared at the expanse of her new closet. The modest collection of Goodwill band tees and Salvation Army jackets tucked into a corner as if vacancy was something to be feared. A soft knock on her door interrupted her reverie. She crossed her arms and sighed, peeling herself off the floor.

"Hey," she smiled, backing into the bedroom. Randy followed inside. It was the first time he had seen the room fully decorated with all her belongings and personal touches. Leave it up to a woman to warm up a space that was literally pulled out of a Restoration Hardware catalog. He thumbed a picture frame on the dresser. It was the Jesse he remembered – nearly a decade younger with her big, toothy grin and wild curls. She had her arm draped casually over an older woman who shared her sun-kissed skin, hair, and smile.

"Your mom?" He turned to see her nod, crossing her arms against her chest and looking away to the dimming sky.

"She's beautiful. Just like you."

A blush crept up her cheeks as she breathed a small laugh. Hearing comparisons with her mother was all she heard growing up, and while most daughters would get sick and tired of it, she thought hearing it would never get old.

"What's up?" she changed the topic. Jesse appreciated Randy, but she didn't want to feel like a charity case. She desperately wanted to keep things light and friendly with him this time around. In the past, they shared dreams and dark secrets. No one knew their friendship delved to those depths; in fact, hardly anyone knew they were friends to begin with. He had his group of friends up at the private school he attended, and Jesse had her eclectic mix of nerds and misfits for friends over at public school. No one knew about Randy in her circle. She was simply working at the country club every summer to help her mom with the bills and save a little extra for college.

No one knew she once cried in his arms. No one knew Randy was the one she counted first.

Randy stood and momentarily watched her. He knew her mind was running a mile a minute. Jesse's eyes would glaze over and anchor on some far-off object, her teeth would nip at her bottom lip, and her arms crossed like she was shivering and in need of a warm embrace.

Tempted to walk up to her and wrap his arms around her petite frame, logic got the best of him and he stayed put. It wasn't his place anymore. Jesse was now living in his home, but it didn't mean they were picking up where they left off eight years ago.

"How are you settling in?"

"It's great. Everything's perfect." She plopped on the foot of the bed and scanned up to meet his cool, blue eyes. "Thank you, Randy-"

"Please, Jesse," he stopped her, "You don't have to keep saying that. Trust me, you're doing me a favor by staying here and assuring me you're safe."

She sighed, standing up and reaching around his waist to give him a warm hug. "I can't promise I won't say thanks anymore, but I just had to hug you."

Randy chuckled, "Well, I can't stop you from doing that." He pulled away and smiled weakly. He wasn't trying to be cold. He just needed to be cautious and platonic. He wasn't going to be the same fool he was as an eighteen year-old kid thinking he was falling in love for the first time.

"I also stopped by to let you know I'm heading out for the evening. I won't be back until much later, so I just wanted to let you know there's food in the fridge and a directory of take-out places by the phone."

Suddenly, Randy's suit and tie made sense to her. It wasn't like the man was dressed like James Bond 24/7 for no reason. He was a busy guy with a demanding social life.

"Hot date tonight?" she teased.

Randy smirked, traces of his vanity oozing through in the way he adjusted the cufflinks on his sleeve. "You could say that."

"What's she like?" Jesse asked out of genuine curiosity. She wasn't a jealous idiot; she knew a guy like Randy with his good looks and background was hot on the dating market.

Randy was hesitant to respond. He was the type to keep his personal life private, having had numerous run-ins with socialite drama and society tabloids in the past. But this was Jesse. He knew she was loyal and trustworthy the moment she came into his life, knocking him off his pedestal and bringing him back down to earth.

"Her name's Eva," he replied, picturing the woman who had occupied his bed for the last four months. He wasn't the monogamous type. He was a serial one-night-stand kind of guy – especially back in New England, but there was something about the redheaded beauty that made him reconsider.

"We're good friends. She's a great girl, a little bit standoffish when you first meet her, but she's blunt as hell. I like that. She's straightforward, knows what she wants, and goes for it."

"That's good," Jesse nodded, "so my guess is she's not the commitment type just like you and that's why your dynamic works so well."

Randy noticed the grin turning up the corners of her mouth. He rubbed the back of his head. Jesse had him figured out so easily. "Yeah, she's cool with our arrangement. No strings attached, no complications, just a few dates to events and the occasional fuck."

"Your language is endearing," she tapped his cheek twice.

"Like you don't have the mouth of a sailor."

Jesse smirked, walking out of the room with Randy following close behind.

"So you'll be fine when I'm gone? It's your first night here and I don't want the ghosts living in this building to freak you out or anything."

"Ha-ha," she mocked, "I'll be fine. Since when have you been such a worrywart?"

"Since you got knocked out by some gangster, little Jess." The nickname was set years ago to establish just how much he towered over her. He hesitated before he turned towards the door. "Call me if you need me," he began as Jesse ushered him out the door. "Eat all the food you want. There's a twenty by the phone if you want take-out. Colonel Chang's soup dumplings – it will change your life!"

Jesse giggled as she closed the door behind him. Randy had this calm, stoic exterior most times, but he could get silly and awkward just like anyone else. He just needed to find the right people to open up that side of him.

* * *

Summer of 2004

_Fourth of July weekend was, surprisingly, less busy than expected. Most of the country club members drove up north to their lake houses or flew down south to the beaches. Meanwhile, Jesse spent her weekend perched on the lifeguard chair, as she got lost in her daydreams._

_Upon anyone's first impression, Jesse was realistic. The young girl knew it would take a lot of hard work and hustle to get to where she needed to be in life. But she was also fiercely ambitious. Ever since she volunteered at the local hospice center, she wanted to pursue a career in the medical field. Jesse took all the AP science courses and got involved with as much extracurricular activities as she could in order to get that prized scholarship from the University of Chicago. She still had two years before her high school graduation, but she could already feel her hopes and dreams in her grasp._

_"Hey!"_

_Jesse blinked against the sun's powerful rays and snapped out of her daydream. She looked down from her perch and met the cool, blue eyes of her new friend._

_"I must've called your name, like, twenty times," he chuckled, resting his forearms on the chair. He had that boyish smirk that made her want to slap him on the side of the head out of a mixture of irritation and delight._

_She lifted the sunglasses briefly and sneered. "Maybe I was ignoring you, Randal."_

_He cringed at the formality of his name. "I highly doubt you were ignoring me. Your head's always in the clouds… makes me wonder if you're thinking about me."_

_Jesse's jaw dropped and her brows scrunched in feigned disgust, "As if!"_

_Randy couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. Normally, girls would reciprocate when he pulled out his charm and flirted with them; but Jesse was different. She shut him down immediately. It wasn't like he was hanging out with her because he liked the thrill of the chase. He just genuinely enjoyed her company. Her dry humor and initial indifference towards him presented a fresh change._

_Once they got talking, he found out that Jesse was actually a lot warmer and good-natured once he got through her barrier of sarcasm. In spite of the brief conversations throughout the last few weeks, he knew she still kept a lot of things to herself. She was very private, and didn't really want to talk about herself, her friends, or her home life. If there was anything she talked animatedly about it was her aspirations, her plans, and where she saw herself after high school._

_He, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Randy had a lot of pressure from his father regarding his future. The plan was to finish high school, get accepted to Harvard Business School (complete the third-generation legacy), and become groomed to take over the investment firm. Then, there was his mother who supported Randy's decisions no matter what; but in their household, she had no say in anything. It was a persistent grievance that was aired out in their conversations._

_As much as he wanted to keep things light and fluffy between them, the frustration would always come as a result of spending scheduled time with his father at the golf course. They'd play a few rounds, Robert Orton would make a spiteful comment about his wife, Randy would restrain himself from strangling his old man, and Robert would break apart his own son and call him "stupid, emotional, weak, and just like your mother."_

_Jesse would have been lying if she said she didn't have preconceived notions about Randy. She thought he was some bratty, rich kid who had an overbearing father who just wanted to see him succeed. As the father and son golf games became more frequent, so did Randy's visits to the pool. He would walk up to her and flirt with her, knowing that she was going to turn him down. He would laugh it off and ramble about the Bears, or some sports team she didn't pay any attention to. In the end, they'd somehow maneuver the conversation into him opening up about his personal life. Jesse didn't mind. She had always been an astute observer who took interest in the needs of others before her own, so it was natural that she cared about Randy's wellbeing._

_The more she thought about it – the more she tried to piece his complex life together – the more she had trouble trying to figure out why Robert, who vocally expressed his hatred for his wife, Kate, still remained married to her. She could just ask Randy why his parents hadn't gotten a divorce yet, but something was telling her that there was more to this story than he was willing to share. Or maybe there was more to this story than Randy knew._

* * *

The living room was dimly lit with just the light from the television flashing on the screen. Hours ago, she was in the kitchen trying to figure out how to turn on Randy's stove without much luck. Technology was supposed to make things easier, but how does one turn on a touchscreen, infrared stovetop without a physical switch?

Jesse's attempts to figure out the feats of the 21st century were futile, so she gave up and called the much-hyped Colonel Chang's. Ignoring the bill he left on the counter, she ordered a box of shrimp fried race and two bowls of the soup dumplings. She figured Randy might be starving after having those meals for birds at one of those fancy, five-star restaurants.

She binged on a tub of ice cream and hid behind her knees, watching an eighties horror flick on Randy's Netflix instant queue. Ominous music boomed through the speakers as the killer's footsteps neared his prey. The axe swung down on her head and Jesse screamed. She screamed even louder when she heard the door unlock. Holding on the nearly empty pint in one hand and shielding herself with a throw pillow on the other, she was like a deer in the headlights when Randy barged into the room.

"Oh my god," she sighed in relief when she realized it was just Randy and not an axe murderer.

"Jesus!" he swore, placing his palm against his beating heart, "I thought something happened to you."

She picked up the remote and paused the movie just as blood and guts sprayed from the victim's decapitated corpse. Randy grimaced at the image on the screen, and walked towards Jesse, who was still shaken by the thought of an axe murderer coming to get her.

"Why are you watching this when you're just about ready to pee your pants?" he chuckled.

"I like to challenge myself by watching morbid and gory horror movies, ok?" she sighed as if it was a completely normal thing to do.

"You're weird," he picked up the ice cream from her hands and took a spoonful to his mouth.

She stuck her tongue out, "whatever." Jesse plopped down on the couch and hugged the pillow even tighter. She looked at the television and tilted her head to study the scene. They had taken huge strides in creative freedom in terms of human blood volume.

"I got you soup dumplings," she mumbled as she unpaused the movie and lowered the volume. Randy pulled out the take-out container from the familiar brown and red paper bag. He grinned, she knew exactly what he needed.

"How was your night?" he asked, settling down beside her on the couch.

"It was good apart from nearly peeing my pants when you walked in, and the fact that I am apparently incompetent at operating kitchen appliances from the future."

Randy laughed. He probably should have taught her about all the counterintuitive, supposedly easy to operate appliances furnished around his home. "There's a child-safety lock to access the power button. There's a certain gesture you have to do on the surface of the stovetop to turn it on."

"Shit," Jesse laughed, "You've got to teach me your ways, Marty McFly."

"Tomorrow," he groaned, sinking deeper into the comforts of the couch as he enjoyed the savory broth of his late-night snack.

"So how was your evening?" Jesse asked back. Honestly, she wasn't expecting him to be home so early. She was also a little surprised that he hadn't brought Eva back to his place.

He rolled his eyes, annoyance plaguing his handsome features. "It was fucked." He shook his head, not really wanting to talk about it but at the same time, he couldn't help but open up to Jesse. Before his mind could stop him, he was already spilling details about his relationship.

"Somehow, Eva found out about you moving in and now she's telling me to choose between you as my roommate and her as my girlfriend. First off, she isn't my girlfriend. Second, she's not telling me how to live my life." Randy continued to rant, "She made this big scene at the restaurant and flipped out at the waiter and stormed out. The worst part was this guy – the biggest, fucking kiss-ass - from work saw the whole thing go down. I won't be surprised to hear about it from the old man in the morning."

"Oh, Randy Orton with his rich boy problems," Jesse fluttered her eyelids as she sighed. "Was it really that bad?"

"Well, it was Eva who made herself look like a complete bitch. But still," he buried his face in his hands, "I was with her. She was my responsibility and I should have controlled the situation before it had gone out of hand."

"Come on, Randy," she stroked his back, "I don't think you should be so hard on yourself. She's a grown woman. Eva isn't your responsibility and she isn't someone you have to control."

"I guess so," he replied hesitantly, "It's just right now I have a lot on my plate. I'm starting in the firm and there's a lot of doubt from the investors about my abilities. People dug up stuff from college about me dicking around, getting into drugs, and nearly getting kicked out. All these people know that if it weren't for my dad paying off the dean, I wouldn't have even graduated from Yale. Now, besides my dad riding my back, I have all of these guys expecting me to screw up."

Jesse looked at him. His face was more rugged yet cleanly shaven, the corners of his eyes were showing signs of age, and his arms permanently marked by an act of rebellion at 21. Randy had grown in many ways, but he was still that same boy trapped in the same house of problems that plagued him many years ago. Just now, he wasn't full of hope to break out of it all. Randy had resigned himself to a life just as everyone had wanted from him – to be a successor of his father

His father – the man that drove his mother mad to the point of suicide.


	4. Prize Fighting

**Swan in the Water**

**A/N: Hey! I just want to say thank you to my readers, especially those who took the time out to review the last chapter. It's awesome that you guys notice my attention to detail and the importance I place on character development. I like to unravel things as I go along, and not just lay it all out there on the first chapter. So if you'll be patient with me, we can embark on this journey together (since I have a very vague idea where this story's heading anyway). All I know is, Randy and Jesse are complex characters who can be light-hearted or angsty together, depending on their mood. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Remember, flashbacks are italicized. Read, enjoy, and review! xx**

* * *

_Floating along the surface of the pool, a pair of Ray-bans over his eyes, the blissful serenity of a Sunday morning. To top it off, his dad was thousands of miles and an ocean away on a business trip. It was a recipe for the perfect day. Sure, he had to sneak into the club, pay off a gardener, and leap over the fence, but it was the only chance he had to be there before she did. It was the only chance he had to make sure he had her alone, away from the distracting kids and the excessively vigilant nannies. _

"_Pool's closed."_

_His lips curled into a smile at the sound of her voice. Soft and melodic, but with a barely perceptible rasp that, he found, matched the dryness of her humor. He pulled the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to see her, arms on her hips, standing on the edge of the pool._

"_Good morning to you too, Jesse."_

_She rolled her eyes and remained in place. Jesse wanted to know why he was here before the club had even opened its doors. He always had a way of getting whatever he wanted without the repercussions. It always frustrated her that things came easy to him, but it frustrated her even more that it was his charm and confidence that drew her to him. Randy pulled the sunglasses up to his eyes to conceal the fact that he was checking her out. Her long, tanned legs were stark against the white jean shorts. She wore a billowy tank top over the red lifeguard suit, and her wild curls were, for once, free and not restrained into a taut topknot. _

"_What are you doing here?"_

"_Waiting for you."_

_Jesse's breath hitched in her throat. 'He's just a friend' she tried to remind herself. It was a persistent reminder, that was becoming all the more frequent as time passed. She could spin those three words, 'waiting for you,' however way she wanted, but she knew it didn't mean a thing to Randy. He was just a flirt – a flirt who so happened to snag a smoking, hot girlfriend at the end of junior year. So Jesse kept her distance and ignored the suggestive nature of his words. _

_It was hard though. Boy, was it hard; especially when he was floating on his back with his long and lean torso in full display. And if the unwavering confidence in his movements wasn't enough, the wayfarers shielding his eyes made him look like James Dean reincarnate. _

"_What do you want?" she tried to play it cool, pretending she was disinterested. This was always how it worked. She often pretended she was nonchalant about everything, even if her insides were twisting in a mess of emotions. It was fine in the beginning; she just chalked it up to attraction thus it was easy not to get attached. At this point, she had known him for a year and the more time they spent together, the more she cared about him. She knew the ins and outs of Randy Orton. She knew about his fucked up family, his infuriatingly perfect girlfriend, and his addiction to self-destructive behavior. In spite of all this, she couldn't stay away. Part of it was because she really did care about him and she wanted to be there for him. Part of it was also because he treated her like she was beautiful, desirable, and worthy of someone like him. She hated to admit it because she hated feeling like her worth belonged to the opinion of a rich, seventeen year-old white boy. But it was true. She secretly craved that feeling, and the more he gave it, the harder she tried to suppress it. It was recipe for Shakespearean levels of tragedy._

_The only way she knew how to deal with her feelings was to pretend they didn't exist. She was always a ball of emotions but she knew how to maintain a tough exterior. For Randy, it was the opposite. When it came to girls, he had a very flippant attitude. Sure, he had a girlfriend but he was a young guy, and he believed that he had every right to be flirtatious and perhaps even promiscuous. He liked Jesse, and he would have been lying if he said he never imagined hooking up with her. He was guilty of having had an unhealthy amount of daydreams involving Jesse straddling him in a hot tub, Jesse pressed up against the lockers as she cried out his name, Jesse coming beneath him as he screwed her senseless in the middle of the golf course… Some would say he had a perverted mind, but honestly, he was just horny all the fucking time. _

_Randy swam to the edge, where she stood. He looked up the length of her legs and met her narrowed eyes. He placed his palms on the concrete and pushed himself out of the water. Jesse stepped back, giving them both space. She averted her gaze to keep from staring from the beads of water that trickled down his chest, against the ripples of his abs, and to the curve of his hips. He grinned, feeling quite proud of himself._

_Crossing her arms over her chest, she heaved a sigh as Randy stepped forward, closing the gap between them. He brought his hand to her cheek, compelling her to meet his eyes. Her soft green orbs met his icy blues. Instantly, she grew weak in the knees and she felt a sharp intake of air before her breathing ceased momentarily. He grazed his knuckles against the soft skin of her arm. She began to speak up in protest, but he gave her one look and her lips clamped shut._

_He lowered his head. This was the part where Jesse, had she been thinking straight, would have stepped back, slapped him in the face, and vowed never to speak with him again. Lines were drawn and they were just friends. He chose to have a girlfriend, and regardless of how much she let him get away with, Jesse was having no part in their quasi-open relationship. But it was too late, his spell was cast and she was like putty in his hands. Leaning forward, his warm breath touched her skin awaiting the contact._

_But it never came._

_Jesse opened her eyes and saw Randy standing in front of her. He had that stupid, satisfied smirk on his unreasonably handsome face._

"_I knew it," his eyes grew dark, "you want me just as much as I want you."_

* * *

If he could take a swing at the teenager in his dream, he would. As the dream became more lucid, he attempted to do just that but the weight of his arm kept him from connecting with the jaw of his seventeen year-old self. Ultimately, he had to relive the moment when he was an absolute dick to the first girl he truly cared about. He groaned, adjusting his arm only to feel numbness and a distinct mass suppressing it. "Mmmm," his senses perked up as the silkier moan escaped from her lips and the ensuing warmth nestled onto his body.

Randy opened one eye and looked down at his roommate's head nuzzled into his right shoulder. He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to get used to the bright, morning light. They must have spent all night talking and ended up falling asleep on the couch. He looked down on her sleeping frame only to get a face full of her hair.

He chuckled lightly as he received a generous whiff of her tropical-scented shampoo. It reminded him of laying on a hammock, beneath the shade of coconut trees, on some private island in the Caribbean. She grumbled something incoherent and snuggled even further into the crook of his neck. Her soft breaths tickled his skin, and he started laughing, trying to crane his neck away from her mouth. Jesse grunted, not amused that her peaceful sleep was interrupted by the same comforting body that made it so peaceful in the first place.

"Damn it, Randy."

"I'm sorry!" He ran his hands along the sides of his neck. "Your snoring was tickling me!"

"Excuse me?" she replied incredulously, "my snoring?"

That boyish, pompous smirk turned up at the corner of his lips. Jesse turned her body so she straddled him and began nuzzling her face into his neck. She inhaled and exhaled rapidly and repeatedly, causing Randy to convulse and giggle uncontrollably. "Stop!"

Jesse pulled up, eyeing him mischievously. "Was I snoring? Yes or no?"

"Yes."

She sunk her head onto his neck and laughed, her breath tickling the sensitive spot on his neck even further. Randy wrapped his arms around her as he shook and rolled around the couch. If Jesse was going to put him through this torture, then she'd have no choice but to feel the consequences with him. He turned against the edge of the couch down on the carpet, falling on top of her.

Trapping her underneath his weight, he smirked and began to speak when someone clearing his throat interrupted him. He looked up and Jesse craned her neck to see Randy's friends, John and Cody, at the doorway. He inwardly smacked himself on the head. He should have revoked their 'swing-by-the-house-anytime-here-are-my-keys' privileges as soon as Jesse moved in.

"Hope we weren't interrupting anything…" Cody trailed off

Randy swung his leg over and helped her up. "No, it's cool. What's up?" he played it casually. Jesse, whose cheeks were burning, glanced between him and his friends hoping that she could magically remove herself out of this awkward situation.

"It's Saturday, 11:45 in the morning," John said as if it was so obvious.

Randy cocked his head to the side and scrunched his brows, trying to figure out what John meant by telling him the date. The realization hit him like a wrecking ball.

"Shit."

He boarded up the stairs into his bedroom, leaving Jesse alone with his friends. She shook her head and began picking up the empty takeout containers from the coffee table. John and Cody tried to help but, even they couldn't figure out how Randy's ultramodern dishwasher and trash compactor worked. When she had cleaned the area up, Randy had returned downstairs and she got her first official glimpse of his tattoos.

It was December, so every time she saw him he was wearing long sleeves. She gaped slightly at the sight of his ink-covered forearms. She never would have imagined the son of Chicago's top investment banker to be covered in ink. She had to admit, the rebellious nature of it all made him sexier.

"Where are you going?" She studied the boys and noted that they were all in their gym gear.

"Shit, we don't have time," Randy panicked, pulling Jesse by the wrist and nearly carrying her out the door and into the elevator. Once the elevator doors closed, he finally let out a breath and began to explain, "The boys and I decided to take up boxing, and I have a match in 10 minutes," he looked at his watch. "If I don't show up on time, I forfeit."

"Oh," Jesse replied, "But why am I here?"

The elevator doors opened and before she could press on for more information, John picked her up and carried her across the parking lot into Randy's SUV.

"Moral support, Jesse," John chuckled, "Our boy, Randy, here will need it."

* * *

Randy must have broken a handful of speed limits and ignored a few stop signs to get to the gym, but they made it just in time. Randy dropped his bag in one corner and took a swig from his water bottle. Jesse couldn't help but watch him as he got focused. He was normally teeming in the confidence department, so it was interesting to see him etched with a little fear and apprehension.

The moment his opponent came into view, it all came full circle. This guy was at least five weight classes above Randy; and if it wasn't already possible, he towered over all six-foot-five inches of her roommate. His challenger was a giant.

"They call him the Big Show," said Cody as if reading the thoughts running through her head, "everyone goes through a match with him. The gym calls it 'breaking the new guys in'".

She turned to Cody with horror written all over her face, "Did he break you in?"

Cody coughed repeatedly before he could respond, "No, not yet. Randy's the most promising in the class so he has the privilege to go first."

Jesse looked up at the ring to see Big Show at his corner, his coach goading him on to knock out his opponent. She turned her attention over to Randy's corner where he was busy stretching. After getting his energy up and loosening his muscles, Randy turned around to look Big Show in the eye. The guy was in the zone, and the friendly giant they knew as Paul Wight was no longer in the building. Randy pulled his muscle shirt over his head and chucked it over to his cornerman, John.

"You got this, man." John slapped his best friend's back. In a few weeks it would be his turn, and he was hoping that fighting with Randy would make the Big Show learn to ease up on the new guys.

"I got this," Randy repeated to himself, punching his gloves together and moving towards the center of the ring.

Jesse bit her lip as she watched Randy move toward the center at the instruction of the referee. Her palms were sweaty and her breathing was more hasty, and she didn't know if it was the anxiety building up inside her or the raw heat that was coursing through her body. There was no way she could deny that Randy looked incredible. The six-pack abs, the biceps covered in skull tattoos, the curve on his hips dipping below the hem of his shorts. She nipped at her bottom lip too hard, drawing blood.

"You're not even fighting and you're bleeding. What the hell?" Cody murmured, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and passing it over to her.

"Thanks," she replied, pressing the white, monogrammed fabric onto her lips. She was just glad that Cody hadn't caught on to her checking out his best friend.

The bell rung and the two men squared off. Jesse wasn't sure if Big Show was easing up on Randy, but her roommate got a few solid punches in the first few rounds. He even hit the 200kg giant with an uppercut that caused him to stumble back into his own corner. Despite Randy's speed in his strikes and ability to dodge, the Big Show's punches packed a lot more power. By the sixth round, Randy's stamina was depleting and his reaction time was slowing down.

Jesse sat on the edge of her seat. She was ashamed to admit that she underestimated Randy; nevertheless she was worried sick of how out-of-it he looked. He was sat on the corner with John throwing ice, cold water on his face. There was no expression in his eyes, just an empty, faraway look. "Come on, man. I know you've got the last four rounds in you." John rubbed his best friend's shoulders and pulled him up on his feet. Randy stumbled forward before he regained his balance. Looking back at John, he extended out his fist and nodded. He swung his arm around until his fist pointed at Jesse in the audience. Life and fire returned to his eyes as he stared her down and lifted his chin.

Jesse shook her head in affirmation, sending him two thumbs up. Seconds later, Randy was backed up against the ropes with the Big Show pummeling away at his pretty face. The round was over and so was that short-lived moment of optimism.

Standing up from the sidelines, she paced over to his corner, jumped up on the apron and knelt in front of his limp body. "Hey, hey, Randy!" she picked up his chin and forced him to look at her. "Three more rounds and it's over. Don't give up now or else you'll never hear the end of it from me."

Randy grunted a faint yes. Jesse and John helped him up, allowing his exhausted body to relax against the turnbuckle. The referee was calling for the next round to commence. Randy turned to her with a look of sheer terror in his eyes. "It hurts," he grimaced before he stumbled to the center of the ring.

"You'll kiss it better," John quipped when Randy was out of earshot. Jesse nudged him in the rib and focused her eyes on the match. At this point it was a clear match, and it was only a matter of whether or not Big Show had enough power or mercy in him not to knock out his completely loopy challenger.

By the tenth round, Randy's knees were wobbly and his arms were stationary, shielding what was left of his face. The Big Show was set to bring out all his strength in one solid fist to the cheek, but somehow some neurons quickly fired in Randy's brain and he dodged it. The force of his swing caused the giant to spin around and fall on his ass.

In spite of the near-comeback at the end, Big Show, expectedly, won more rounds and ultimately won the match-up. Nevertheless, the small crowd was impressed that Randy lasted long enough to complete the fight. The two fighters retreated back into the locker rooms, leaving Jesse in the company of John and Cody. The two men enthusiastically recounted and reenacted the highlights of the match as Jesse laughed at their feeble attempts to look as terrorizing as Big Show.

"Excuse me, miss," said a voice with a discernible British accent.

Jesse turned around to face a tall man with dark hair and green eyes. "Hi, I don't think we've met. My name is Wade Barrett."

She blinked at him a few times before his introduction processed in her head. "Uh, hi, I'm sorry," she replied, extending her hand out for him to shake, "I'm Jesse Sullivan."

"Are you a member of the gym?"

She looked around in mild panic, "What? Am I not allowed to be in here?"

"No, no," he chuckled, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. She must have been feeling the adrenaline from the match. "I was just wondering if you'd like to participate in our training sessions. There's a first week free trial, if you're interested"

"I don't know," she hesitated, "Boxing isn't really my thing. Upper body strength has never really been my thing. Just ask my gym teacher from high school."

Wade laughed. He hadn't met a girl that interested him this much since he moved to the United States. The last long-term relationship he had was with a girl back home in England. "I guess I didn't really make myself clear. I'm the owner of this gym, and I think we could both benefit from your membership, Ms. Sullivan."

"Please, call me Jesse," she smiled at him before she looked around to observe the extremely fit men and women. "I guess I could give it a shot," she added. It could turn out to be a disaster, but at the very least, she might learn a few moves in case someone tried to mug her again.

"That's great!" He placed his palm on her lower back and led her towards the lobby, "We'll just need your information and then we can set up a schedule for you. How does that sound?"

Jesse nodded as she followed Wade over to the receptionist's booth. She filled out her information as Wade chatted her up with small talk. It was so hard to concentrate on the form she was filling out and remember her new address when his British accent was just so damn, distractingly sexy. He glanced at the address she had filled out and scrunched his brows.

"The 36th floor of the Waldorf? That's the penthouse condominium in my building."

"Yeah?" she replied with a hint of surprise. Of course Randy would have the penthouse suite – why should that even surprise her? She shrugged her shoulders and continued to fill out the form.

"Wait, doesn't Randy Orton live on that floor?" He rubbed the back of his head a noticeable look of disappointment in his eyes, "I'm sorry. You must be his girlfriend. Wow. I didn't know he was seeing someone. I guess know it makes more sense that you were there at his corner during the fight."

Jesse shook her head as Wade continued to ramble, "He's not my boyfriend. He's just my roommate." He heaved out a sigh of relief that was too hard not to notice. Immediately, Wade's cheeks turned into a bright shade of cherry as he tried to evade from the obvious interest he had in the caramel-colored beauty before him.

"I guess I'm not very subtle about my interest in you, Jesse." He relaxed his shoulders and looked into her bright, green eyes. "What I'm trying to say is – I like you and I'd like to get to know you, perhaps over dinner."

Jesse smiled. Wade was such a gentleman. She could tell right away that he was the kind of guy who treated a woman with respect. He had his own business so that probably meant he was a self-made man, and that was really attractive to her. It was not everyday that a successful, English gentleman asked her out on a date, so she would be stupid if she refused.

"I'd love to."

* * *

Showered and dressed in fresh clothes, Randy returned from the locker room and joined the boys. John and Cody were too preoccupied staring at something in the distance to realize their friend's return. Stepping between them and hanging his arms over their shoulders, Randy followed their stare to the two people by the lobby. What he saw reignited a flame that had been dormant for so long.

"Great match, man," said Cody, reverting the group's attention to Randy.

"Yeah, bro, lots of people were impressed you made it all ten rounds. It's rare when you're against Big Show."

"Uh huh," Randy replied, still focused on what was happening several feet away. It looked like the gym's owner was flirting with Jesse. He was typing something in his phone; it was probably her number. She smiled up at him and gave a small wave before she walked towards Randy and his friends. When she was a fair distance away, he yelled out to her, "I'll give you a call."

"What was that about?" he mumbled, mostly to himself, but both John and Cody heard it.

"I don't know. Looked like Wade was asking Jesse out," Cody said simply.

John smirked, "Looks like someone's jealous."

Randy sent him a deathly glare, and turned back just in time for Jesse to join them. She had a silly, little grin on her face and she was blushing. She pulled Randy into a hug and whispered a 'congratulations' in his ear, catching him off guard. Pulling away, she punched him on the shoulder. John sensed the conflicted look that colored his best friend's face. He could tell that the punch on the shoulder was a reinstatement of their friendship, and there was nothing beyond that.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," said Randy, pushing past his friends to head out the door. They followed after him and walked towards the car.

"Hey, why don't we all get lunch?" Jesse suggested, hopping into the backseat of the Range Rover. John and Cody both nodded, but Randy said nothing.

"I'm dropping you guys off," he stated directly, "You guys can grab lunch if you want to, but I'm heading to Eva's. We're going to work things out," he added, glancing at the rearview mirror to lock eyes with Jesse.

* * *

**Someone jealous?**


	5. Blurred Lines

**Swan in the Water**

**AU: From skid row to penthouse suite, Jesse Sullivan's life is flipped upside down when she spots a familiar face at the bar. Suddenly, she becomes the roommate of the city's most promising and most enigmatic bachelor. Randy Orton only wanted to give her the safety and security she deserved, but it might be his nightmares that will ultimately drive her away.**

* * *

Closing the door behind her, Jesse heaved a substantial sigh of relief. Wade was a terrific guy. He had the sexiest British accent, a riveting career as a boxing trainer, and a propensity to mix up his American slang. But there was just no spark. Even when a guy as seemingly perfect as Wade Barrett failed to ignite that fire inside of Jesse, then it would be futile to pursue it any further. She learned that over years of failed relationships. She was always trying to make things work despite what her heart was telling her. She didn't want to hurt them. She wanted to give them a chance. But the longer she waited and settled on her relationships, the worse it ended up for the men in her life.

So she learned to nip it in the bud as soon as she knew there was no connection between them. Of course, what made it harder to deny Wade for a second date was the fact that he had been a complete gentleman about her honesty. She shut her eyes from the overwhelming feeling of her surroundings swallowing her up. When was she going to find that right guy?

Jesse walked down the hall into her room. She undressed from her cobalt blue dress and untied the elastic that kept her wild curls away from her face. Running a hot bath, she wondered if her roommate was even home. Part of her wanted to run upstairs to Randy's room and spill details about her date, just hang out with him, and laugh like old times. The other part of her wanted to hate him for wanting to make up with Eva.

The bubbles engulfed her body, washing her of all the negative thoughts about Randy's pseudo-girlfriend. Instead, memories of Randy inundated her brain and even the warm comfort of bath water couldn't save her from that. He was always so confident and goofy, but beneath those layers he was pensive and passionate. Jesse knew she was one of the lucky few who knew about that side of him, and even though lines were blurred years ago, that sort of friendship would remain steadfast.

After her bath, Jesse wrapped a fluffy white robe around her body and headed out to the kitchen for some herbal tea that might help her sleep. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the fridge door open. The door slammed shut and she was met with the shrieking of a topless redhead.

She wrapped her arms over her bare chest, dropping the pint of ice cream that pooled on the floor. "Who the fuck are you?!"

"I'm Jesse. I live here. Who the fuck are you?"

Her bronzed face turned from fear to disdain in a split second. She dropped her arms on her sides, exposing a set of enviable tits. "So you're the infamous Jesse Sullivan," the redhead walked towards her and stared her down, "Randy must've been kind when he was describing you."

Jesse shook her head and smirked at her wisecrack, "You must be Eva."

"Randy's girlfriend," she added, like it was her official title or something.

"You sure about that?" Jesse replied, "I thought you were just his fuck buddy – never to be seen or heard in public."

Eva's brown eyes narrowed in on Jesse. She didn't like the idea of her man rooming in with an old girl friend, and now that she met her, she detested Jesse with every fiber of her being. This bitch had to go.

"I may be his fuck buddy, but let's be honest, you're just a stray he took in."

"Eva."

The two women turned around to see Randy at the base of the staircase. He was in a pair of heathered grey sweats and it was clear that he had just woken up. Rubbing the sleep out his eyes, he waited for the redhead to leave Jesse alone and go upstairs. Eva huffed and climbed up to his bedroom as per his direction. Randy stayed behind and looked at Jesse.

"How'd your date with Barrett go?"

Jesse raised her brows. He wanted to talk about this now? He wanted to talk about this instead of rationalizing the fact that the woman sharing his bed had basically just equated her to a stray animal?

"He's great, but there won't be a second date."

"I knew it," he leered, turning to head up to his room.

"Wait," she cried out, "what's that supposed to mean?" she walked towards the base of the staircase.

He looked down on her, seeing the faint shadow of her breasts just beneath the white robe. Clearing his parched throat, he replied, "I just know he's not the kind of guy you want." With that, Randy disappeared up the steps, leaving Jesse alone to clean up the ice cream and the proverbial mess of her heart.

* * *

When Jesse woke up the following morning, all traces of Eva and Randy were gone. All she was left with was a note on the kitchen counter. It read, "_Off to LA for two weeks. Take care of the place for me._" There was no '_see you soon_' or '_take care of yourself_' or even an '_I'll miss you_', and for some odd reason that really bothered her. So, instead of mulling over what he said the previous evening, Jesse immersed herself in school and even picked up some extra shifts at Macquarie's.

She was deep into a night shift at the bar when in came Alicia with their tight-knit group of friends, Daniel, AJ, and her boyfriend, Phil. Once they had convinced Samira to let her go for the night to hang out with them, Jesse reluctantly joined them at one of the corner booths. They were an odd group of friends that found each other in sophomore year of high school. As the school's resident overachievers, they were chosen to represent the school in an out-of-state academic decathlon. Even the fact that they were overachievers was kind of odd. If anything, only Jesse and Daniel were traditional overachievers getting straight As and staying out of trouble. AJ was a math and computer science genius, but she was way into video games to invest any time in other academic pursuits. Alicia and Punk were both street smart and quick-witted, and were both chosen to represent the school in the debate portion of the competition. They all didn't win – not against the well-prepared, highly-educated breed that came out of private schools – but they did spend one crazy night that forged a lifetime friendship.

The gang was provoking Jesse to take some shots, let loose, and spill some dirt on her situation with Randy. She might've been buzzed but she knew better than to talk about Randy. The fact that he came out of nowhere and asked her to move in with him was surprising to a group of close friends that had never heard of him before.

AJ leaned her head on Jesse's shoulders and subtly whispered into her ear, "Cute guy at 4:00 has been checking you out all night."

Jesse followed her observation and saw a table of three men. All of them were pretty cute, so she didn't really know which one might have been checking her out. "Which one?"

"Long hair, bronze skin, super hot…"

Phil narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend and turned around to follow the two girls' gaze.

"Not for me," AJ replied defensively. "Guy with long, dark hair has been checking Jesse out all night. If she says there's nothing romantic between her and Randy Orton, then I think it's totally fine that she walk over there and introduce herself." AJ shoved her friend out of the booth and motioned for her to walk over to the group of guys.

"I'm not just going to walk over there and introduce myself!" Jesse hissed between her teeth.

"Yeah you are," Alicia goaded on, "just ask them if they want anything to drink. Besides, you work here so that's not weird."

"I'm not even on my shift anymore!"

"You still look like the bartender though," Daniel added, on the side of the girls.

"Fine," Jesse sighed defeated, "but only so you'd all stop asking me questions about Randy." She walked across the bar and stopped right in front of her table. She looked at the three men and her voice cracked just as he met the dark eyes of the guy who was supposedly checking her out. "Hi, can I get you guys some drinks?"

"You work here?" said the guy with a blond stripe in his hair.

"Yeah?" she answered unsurely.

"I'd like a beer," said the one with a round face and blond hair.

"Sure, a beer. Anything for you guys?"

The one with striped hair was about to say something when tall, dark, and handsome piped up, "How about your name?"

Jesse felt the heat rise to her cheeks. His friends turned to him, completely oblivious that their friend had his eyes one her the entire night. "Jesse," she answered.

"Name's Roman," he then began to gesture to his two friends, "these are my bone-headed friends, Seth and Dean. Care to join us for a drink?"

Jesse smiled at the three men and slid into their booth, taking a seat beside Roman. What was supposed to be one beer turned into four, and she found herself laughing and enjoying the stories of Roman and his friends. She found out they were all police officers, which made the idea of quiet, brooding Roman all the more sexy.

"Hey, I'd love to hang out with you guys again," Jesse began, "but I think I should get back to my friends."

"Hang out with all of us or just Roman?" teased Dean, the wild one who was unafraid to be blunt and crass.

Jesse giggled, "Of course I want to see you all again, but especially Roman," she winked. Pulling his arm, she scribbled her number on his arm. "There, now you have to call me." She slid out of the seat and waved goodbye to the officers, before making her way to her equally sloshed group of friends.

"I guess it's time for everyone to head home," Jesse remarked, seeing AJ asleep in her boyfriend's arms.

"Lightweight!" Alicia stuck her tongue out at the unconscious girl.

"Not to worry, everyone will make it home safe because I'm DD – as always," grumbled Phil.

Jesse pressed her palm on his cheek, "Punk, you're always DD because you don't drink."

"Ugh," he complained comically, "the things I do for my friends," he picked up his girlfriend and led the way as Daniel steadied Alicia and guided her to the car. Jesse waved at Samira and gave one final wave to the police officers before ending the exhilarating night with her friends.

* * *

Darkness enveloped her body, smothering, squeezing, strangling.

Beads of sweat pricked her mocha-colored skin as her chest heaved in weighty breaths that sent her lungs on overdrive. Fists balled into the cream sheets and toes curled at the coursing electric currents that invaded her nerves. It was an anxiety attack that racked her body; and it was no stranger to sleepless nights.

Jesse collapsed in her bed and turned to fetal position. Sobs agonized her body as she tried to overcome the overwhelming stress that was robbing her of peace. Tears in her eyes, she lay awake watching as dawn broke and soft light filled her room. Her expression remained the same as her 7AM alarm rung. Sitting up, she turned the alarm off and swung her legs over the bed. She walked to the mirror to see her dark circles around her red, puffy eyes. Her usually bright skin was dull and covered in red splotches. She looked like shit.

Dressed in an oversized t-shirt and panties, Jesse dragged her feet out of the room hoping that a steaming cup of coffee could salvage this day. The percolator bubbled and she stared as the water bubbled into this dark liquid she hoped would be her elixir. Bent across the counter, she watched the black bubbles appear and disappear, her eyes drooping into a sleep she had longed for all night.

Too late for that. She had class in half an hour.

Jerked out of her two seconds of sleep, the front door unlocked and Randy walked in with a suitcase. He closed the door behind him and took the sight of her. The shirt was falling off her narrow shoulders, and she looked like she had been crying.

"Morning," she mumbled in that rasp. This time it sounded more broken than soothing. "I made us some coffee."

"Morning," Randy replied, walking towards her, seeing the half-moon indentations and scratches on her arms. He held her arm but she quickly jerked it away. Pushing herself on her tip toes she reached up the cupboard to get two mugs. Her shirt hiked up revealing her curved ass in light pink panties. Randy averted his eyes. This was not the time to think of Jesse in that way; not after seeing her eyes and her arms.

"Jesse," his voice was serious.

"Cream and sugar?" she evaded the question she knew he was about to ask.

He held her hand in place and forced her to look him in the eye. She turned her head, afraid of how he'd see her once he got a good look. "Please talk to me, Jess."

"What's there to talk about?" she tried to move away. He let her go and watched as she poured their coffee into the mugs.

"What happened last night? Why are you crying and why do you have those marks on your arms?"

There was no response, so Randy thought back to the night before he left for Los Angeles. Could it have been what Eva said? She didn't have to worry about that anymore; he had taken care of Eva. Could it have been what he had said?

"Is this because of me?"

Jesse's eyes shot open, "Not everything's about you," she spat.

"Then tell me what the hell is going on!"

"Randy, please. I don't want to talk about it," she pleaded. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, and he felt gutted, but he had to know. He had to help.

"You can't just expect me to leave you alone after seeing you like this. Did someone hurt you?"

"No!" she cried, setting the mug on the counter, "I did it, ok?"

Randy swallowed hard. His mind was going on overdrive but the rest of his body felt like shutting down. "Why… why would you do that to yourself?" he choked out. Jesse looked up at Randy and, immediately, she knew she made a huge mistake telling him. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his strong frame.

"It's not like that, Rand, it's nothing like that."

She could feel his body quivering and slowly relax as she rubbed soothing circles on his back. He wrapped his arms around her body and breathed in her scent. Just to know Jesse was here was the most reassuring feeling.

Sometimes he beat himself up when he forgot the smell of her perfume or the sound of her voice. He swore at himself when he couldn't recall from memory the words to the songs she sang before bed. He felt guilty every time he passed by a flower shop and saw hydrangeas at the window, and he thought he was too busy to buy her favorite flowers. He was messed up because she left him too early, and she didn't even say goodbye.

"You're not leaving me," he held tightly, "you're not leaving me like my mom."


End file.
